


Heel

by thebookhunter



Series: Unfaithful [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bit of Winterfrost for you, Bucky is proud but he knows what's good, Dom/sub Play, Happy Birthday Noonie, Here's the menu, Light Bondage, Loki being the little shit we know and love, M/M, Office Sex, Unfaithful!Bucky, Unfaithful!Loki, a desk - Freeform, anyway I hope you like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookhunter/pseuds/thebookhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki calls, Bucky goes. If he's a good boy, the reward will blow his mind. But fucking hell, doesn't Loki like to make it hard for him...</p><p>A birthday fic for Pinknoonicorn. Many happy returns of the day, my darling!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinknoonicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinknoonicorn/gifts).



> This is supposed to take place early on in the affair, before Thor, not long after Loki has started working at Shield.

The intercom does this low buzzing sound and Bucky knows what’s coming.  

“Barnes. In my office.”

Well, then. He checks his watch. He checks Loki’s diary. So, the boss just had a meeting with his bosses. It can only be about the arbitration thing. Hydra are not coming through, and Loki’s feeling the pressure now. He must be in a terrible fucking mood. Bucky’s heart is already pumping harder, he’s already feeling the excitement make his blood run hotter and faster in his veins. Jesus fuck, what has Loki done to him. 

He saves the document, puts his computer on stand-by, and makes his way to Loki’s office. He has to walk past Odinson’s door.  It’s shut, Bucky notices with a sigh of relief. The guy fucking _loathes_ him, which is kind of unfair because, what the hell did Bucky ever do to him? Anyway. Loki’s door. He takes a breath. He already has a fucking semi. He knocks.

“Come on in.”

Loki is at his desk. He doesn’t even look up. Bucky stands there, like a jerk. And he knows it’s all part of it, and it makes him _harder_. He didn’t even fucking know he had it in him, that he would enjoy this kind of kinky shit, but since the very first time he found himself inside that office with Loki, under that cool stare, that predatory head tilt, he felt like he had stepped into the fucking twilight zone, and he’s never looked back. 

Loki is beautiful in a way Bucky never thought he’d appreciate, or want, made out of chiseled angles and planes. His suits are always sharp enough to cut. That’s a new scarf. Suits him, brings out his eyes. He doesn’t walk, he swaggers, he stalks. Everything about him seems calculated, tried and tested, improved and polished. The end result is fucking stunning on every single goddamn level. He has Bucky in fucking awe.

Loki’s hands fly on the keyboard. He keeps on ignoring him for a very long couple of minutes that feel more like ten. And Bucky waits. Because it’s all part of it. You have to be cut out of a very special cloth to pull out the kind of shit Loki gets away with. That astounding confidence. Sometimes Bucky gets cocky on him, and Loki likes to bring him to heel. And Bucky fucking loves being made to heel, and he didn’t know that about himself. Did Loki knew it when he first saw him? Did he just scent that untapped thirst in him? It feels as if Loki can read people, their wishes, their dreams, desires and regrets, longings, secrets, as if they are fucking printed on their faces. It might be a trick. Loki improvises, he seizes the opportunity. He’s a confidence trickster, a snake charmer. Loki is theatrical; even his fucking is theatrical. Bucky feels almost privileged for having caught his eye. Does that make him a fucking worm? Because he doesn’t even care. Feeling that Loki wants him is a heady sensation. When Loki fucks, he takes it very fucking seriously. It’s as if everything Bucky’s done so far was silly high school shenanigans, and he’s playing with the big boys now. Only Loki is in a league of his own.

Loki types furiously, an angry twist in his tight, beautiful mouth, and with one last smack on a key, he’s finished. Huffing with some carefully channeled rage, he sits back, and looks at him for the first time. Head to toe. Bucky’s heart is pounding in his chest. What does Loki have in store for him this time.

“Strip.”

Seriously? The door doesn’t even have a lock. 

Loki’s eyes so hard on him, testing him, unyielding. Are you going to chicken out on me, Barnes?

Bucky shakes his head at his own… whatever the fuck it is. This willingness to do whatever stupid shit this man asks from him, his readiness to obey, because he can’t fucking get enough of the kick it gives him. Nobody has ever made him come so hard, ok? Nobody has ever turned him on so much. So he loosens his tie and drops it. Then his jacket. Now, his shirt. Not too fast, because he can play too, and Loki is watching. And god, Bucky loves that hard, merciless stare on him, because as cold as it seems, it will show eventually a blown up pupil, a light glaze. For all that Loki seems to call the shots here, Bucky is not without his own power. This creature of ivory and ice seems like he can’t get enough of little old him either. There’s a thought.

He drops the shirt, and there it is, Loki’s mouth is already softer. And Bucky’s cock is fully hard, just from those eyes on him. He drops his trousers and his pants, and it’s almost fucking embarrassing. Loki’s pupils betray that he’s affected. Bucky’s cock just proclaims it to the whole wide world. 

Naked now, standing, hard, panting slightly. 

Loki calls him over with a gesture of his head. Bucky goes. He stands by his side, and at this short distance, Loki’s stare is almost unbearable. When he stands up, that handful of inches he has on him, Bucky’s breath hitches. Now he’s being stared down, and he can’t fucking disguise how intimidated he is, how turned on. Loki closes the distance. The obscenely expensive material of his suit on Bucky’s bare skin, on his cock. Loki hasn’t even touched him yet, and Bucky’s cock is fucking leaking. 

“Tough morning?” says Bucky. “You seem tense.” He sasses when he’s nervous, it’s been getting him into trouble since high school.

Loki smirks. He likes his sass. He leans closer.

“Kneel.”

Jesus fucking _Christ_ , that went straight to his fucking groin. His eyes flutter. He obeys. His face is level with Loki’s zip. The shape of his semi perfectly discernible through the material of his suit, the head, tantalising.

“You want it?” 

Bucky stares up at those cool green eyes.

“If you want it, you will have to ask for it.”

He fucking means it too. Bucky tried to get smart once, got stubborn, thought he’d call his bluff. He was summarily expelled from the office, with his straining boner and his racing pulse. Loki never hesitated, didn’t bat an eyelid. Bucky could play nice and obey, or they would not play at all. Making him talk is one of the things Loki has on him, to break him. Bucky is not naturally talkative during sex, he just gets on with it. The occasional curse or enthusiastic exclamation. Loki makes him talk. Speak out. Tell me. Ask. _Beg_.

“Do you want it, Barnes?”

“I want your cock.”

“Where do you want it?”

Bucky clenches his jaw. His every instinct is to resist. He’s a proud guy, ok? He calls the shots. Well, not here he doesn’t. Just do it, or don’t do it, dude, but if you do it, you’ll have to play by his rules. 

“I want your cock in my mouth,” he hisses between gritted teeth.

Loki smirks.

“So take it.” He grabs Bucky’s head, and pushes his face against his groin. Bucky closes his eyes and takes it, his own hard-on twitching, straining. He knows better than to use his hands, on Loki or himself, without being told to.

Loki releases him.

“Pull it out.”

Bucky goes for it.

“No. No hands. Behind your back.”

Fuck. Bucky obeys. He holds his wrists behind his back, and he nuzzles with his nose and lips to try and get to Loki’s zipper. He closes his teeth around the slider, and pulls. It’s not fucking easy. He’ll chip his fucking tooth. He sees himself, buck naked, on his knees on the fucking carpet in a fucking office, struggling to open a fucking zipper without using his hands. He should be feeling completely fucking stupid, but those eyes above him, staring him down… He feels like an animal, tamed, housebroken, well trained. If he’s good now, the reward will blow his fucking mind.

“I think you need help,” says Loki. 

In two moves, his zipper is down, his cock is out, hard, flushed, beautiful. Again, Bucky will not touch it without being prompted first. He’s learned that lesson too.

Loki cups his jaw, strokes his thumb on Bucky’s lips.

“Beautiful,” he says, and damn it that doesn’t fucking stir something within. Bucky is holding his breath. Loki slips his thumb inside his mouth, and permission be damned, Bucky can’t fucking help himself, he sucks it, works his tongue on it. And Loki seems pleased. He doesn’t punish him, he doesn’t tell him off. He extracts his thumb, now wet, with a half smile. He grabs his cock.

“Still.”

He rubs the head on Bucky’s lips. Bucky is fucking desperate to take it in. He lets his lips part. His hands behind his back are fisted tight. He’s shivering. Loki’s other hand is still gently cupping his jaw. 

“Do you want it, Barnes?”

“Yes…” he says. It was a very fucking embarrassing whimper. 

“Open.”

Thank fucking god…

Loki pushes past his lips, past his teeth. Bucky opens and tries to relax his jaw as he tightens his lips. He fucking lives for the moment when Loki’s eyelids begin to get heavy, when his breathing begins to strain. But, for now, Loki’s eyes are hard on him, unwavering.

“I want to see your mouth used and swollen…” he whispers. “I want it blushed deep… I want every fucking person in this building to know what you’ve been up to today… Who’s done that to you…”

Bucky whimpers again. Fuck, yes. I want them to see and _know_. He tightens his lips, and Loki fucks faster, deeper. Bucky can’t deep throat, he gags and coughs quite spectacularly, and Loki hasn’t fucked his mouth that deep since the first attempts. Sometimes Bucky wishes he just went for it. He fantasises about it. But Loki doesn’t seem to be interested in things Bucky does not physically enjoy, how’s that. 

Loki grabs his hair in a bunch, and guides his head back and forth, as he thrusts. It’s enough to make Bucky feel jostled, not enough to choke him. It goes on for a while, Bucky’s lips getting sore, puffing up. Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, focusing on sensation. The hot throb in his groin, pulsing, is making him whimper.

With a sharp tug, Loki prises Bucky away from his cock. From his considerable height, he cups his jaw again, one thumb on his lips again.

“Good boy,” he purrs.

Those two stupid words should have him foaming at the mouth in anger. So fucking patronising. Anybody else telling him anything remotely in that region would get a fucking snarl. But not Loki. Loki gets a glazed, adoring gaze, he gets Bucky willing to roll over and show his belly for a fucking rub. 

“You like me to use you?” asks Loki.

Oh, Loki is really testing the limits of what he can get Bucky to admit today. Bucky grits his teeth.

“Do you like me to use you, Barnes?” he challenges.

“Yes,” hisses Bucky, clenching his jaw.

“Do you want me to use you some more?”

Fuck you, Loki, he groans to himself. But Loki smirks, unfazed. He knows he’s got him. Fuck, he’s totally got him under his fucking thumb.

“Yes,” says Bucky between his teeth.

“Ask me.”

Eyes pinched shut. Just get it out of the way, man.

“I-I want you to use me some more,” says Bucky.

The shit-eating grin on Loki’s face is almost fucking unbearable.

“Get up,” he commands.

And Bucky obeys. On his feet, his erection is impossible to hide. Loki eyes it. Bucky, breathing hard, endures the examination. If he makes him say anything else…

“Bend over,” says Loki.

That voice of his. Bucky does as he’s told, short of breath. Hands on the desk, by his head, chest and stomach on the furniture. He’s panting. 

He feels it on his back first, just a whisper. He turns to look. Loki has taken off that silk scarf, and is now ghosting it down the ridge of Bucky’s spine. Smooth, soft, feather-light, Loki’s eyes following its path as goosebumps erupt all over Bucky’s back. His rump now, his ass, between his butt-cheeks. His balls. The back of his thighs. Fucking tease. 

There are steps outside, and Bucky’s heart fucking stops. Not that many people dare to just walk into Loki’s office without knocking, but shit, knowing Loki, he could be pounding him nonchalantly and greet the caller without losing a step.

The steps continue past Loki’s door. And Bucky has no idea what happens next and doesn’t even fucking care. Whatever Loki wants to do to him.

“We better get on with this, shouldn’t we?” says Loki. “Hands on your back.”

He wraps the scarf around Bucky’s wrists, forearms, elbows. A tight knot, another, another. Bucky’s shoulders are straining, the posture is uncomfortable. His chest is taking a lot of weight. And Loki has taken three steps back, and is watching.

“Beautiful,” he says again. “I wish I could take you to my place in London,” he says. “The things I’d do to you there, with better tools.”

Don’t play with my fucking heart as well, you bastard. 

“Are you going to fuck me or what?” he says, dangerously cocky, risking being left there, tied up, naked, high and dry.

“I don’t know. Ask me nicely,” says Loki.

Damn him. More teeth gritting.

“Please, Loki, fuck me. Now,” he hisses.

Loki lets out a low, growly laugh, which bodes nothing good. He approaches; Bucky’s heart races. Loki sits in his chair. Will he make Bucky ride him, all tied up like that, until he exhausts himself?

A brush of tongue on his hole. Bucky hisses. 

“So,” purrs Loki, another brush of tongue. “What’s it going to be? My mouth, or my cock?” Another brush of tongue.

“Both,” grunts Bucky.

A hard slap on his butt. He jumps.

“Greedy boy,” admonishes Loki. “Do you think I’m here to serve you?”

A silence. Shit, he expects an answer.

“No.”

“Do you think I have nothing better to do with my time than pleasuring you?”

Where the hell is this going.

“No.”

“So which one is it going to be then?”

“Shit, Loki, I don’t know, do whatever you fucking want. Please. Just… I want to come…”

Another low, growly chuckle. Bucky feels so fucking ridiculous, he’s even getting in a mood. But then the sound of the bottle of lube being uncapped brings him back to focus. A finger penetrates him, and goes straight for the fucking gold. He shudders, pressing his forehead hard on the desk.

“Oh, god…” 

Loki teases his prostate mercilessly. Bucky stays very still, back tense as a bowstring, knees locked, whimpering.

“Do you like it when I serve you?” questions Loki, never stopping his expert ministrations.

“I-… Uh…” What’s the right answer to that? Which one will get him a fucking pounding?

Loki slips in a second finger, and now he fucks in and out.

“Do you?” insists Loki.

“I like…” Bucky pants, whimpers. “God…”

Loki adds his tongue.

“Oh mother of ffff…” Bucky is sobbing, legs shaking. “Loki… More…”

“Never happy, are we?” teases Loki. “What is it now?”

“Fuck me, please,” he begs. “Fuck me…”

“Yes, I think you’ve had enough,” he agrees. “Unfortunately, we don’t have all day.”

One last lap of tongue. He stands on his feet. Bucky’s eyes are closed, his ears fucking buzzing. He’s clenching his butt hungrily. He feels the blunt head against him.

“Please…” he begs.

He’s not been opened wide enough, but it’s not like he’s not used to Loki’s cock. There is some pressure, and a pinch, and Bucky is breeched.

“Ah, yes…” he sighs. 

Loki takes his fucking time, and all the while Bucky is whimpering, needy and desperate. When Loki bottoms out, he stays still. Bucky tells himself to fucking breathe, enjoy the fullness, and pray that Loki doesn’t decide to end the game here.

“Please…” he pleads. 

Loki pulls out almost completely, and shoves it in hard, pushing the air out of Bucky’s lungs. The second shove is just as sudden and hard, and the next one, and the next one. Bucky feels them all along his back, up to his fucking throat. The legs of the table screech as every thrust drags them on the tile. Loki picks up the pace, not fast, not slow, the kind of pace Bucky knows he can hold for a fucking hour, almost without breaking a sweat. And fuck, he can move, his cock brushing on it just right, smooth as a dancer. Bucky’s shoulders are strained, and he’s going to feel sore after this, but goddammit, Loki, keep going…

“You take it so well…” whispers Loki, just a tad short of breath, as his hand rakes into his scalp, descends to his neck, and anchors on Bucky’s shoulder, keeping him fixed. And he slows down, grinding his hips instead of fucking. Bucky bites his lips hard. 

“Loki, please…” he whimpers.

“Have you had enough? Don’t you like this then?” His voice is close, he’s leaning over him.

“Loki…” Bucky clenches his jaw, wound very very tight. “Please, Loki, make me come… I-I need to come…”

“Hm… Have you been a good boy, Barnes?”

“I’ve been a fucking saint,” grunts Bucky.

Loki laughs, and begins to move again. He’s doing that thing with his hips, Bucky can’t fucking breathe for how good it feels. 

“Do you think you can come untouched?” whispers Loki, without stopping. 

“Something tells me… I better fucking learn to,” grumbles Bucky.

Loki laughs again, a spontaneous, delighted sound, and Bucky smiles, because Loki fucking _likes_ him, and it feels dangerously nice. Loki leans over.

“Let me ruin you,” he purrs right by his ear, and licks his neck.

He straightens up again, and begins to pound him like a fucking metronome. He has the angle just fucking right. Bucky is unhinged. He wants his cock touched, but if Loki can keep this up, if he doesn’t actually stop…

“Fuck…” he whimpers.

It’s building up, slowly, but it is, and Bucky is fucking desperate, and he guesses he’ll have to take whatever he’s given. He won’t be sitting pretty this afternoon, that’s for sure. 

Loki grabs his hips, and takes it up a notch, and the way their bodies are slamming… 

Shit, steps in the corridor. Knocks on the door. 

“What is it?” says Loki, _without fucking slowing down_.

“Mr. Laufeyson? We have a reply from Hydra! There’s an emergency meeting in the boardroom. Fury, Coulson, Odinson and Romanoff are already there.”

Loki doesn’t lose pace. He’s thinking. Bucky has stopped breathing.

“Mr. Laufeyson?”

“Two minutes.”

He begins to pound him hard. The desk is screeching on the floor, the slap of flesh is very fucking loud, and Bucky’s oozing with adrenaline, and…

“Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming…” he moans, his whole body tensing, staying still to make sure he’s going to get exactly what he’s getting for another few seconds, just enough to… “Fuck, I’m coming…” He’s spilling on the carpet, groaning, clenching his jaw.

Loki is hammering him now, hard, mercilessly, the last few thrusts reverberating up Bucky’s spine, and Bucky knows Loki has come just because he is slowing down, and his breathing has become deep and tightly controlled. 

Still now, one hand splayed over Bucky’s back, between his shoulder blades, keeping him down as he pulls out. Not that Bucky can move much, his arms are still tied from above the elbow to the wrist with three fucking knots. 

“You’re not going to fucking leave me like this, are you?”

Loki laughs again. He’s in an excellent mood.

“I’ll get Mrs. Summers to untie you.”

“Loki…!” he growls.

Loki takes pity. Soon, Bucky is free, hip leaning on the desktop, trying to avoid resting too much weight on a certain point, as he rubs the ligature marks, and rolls his abused shoulders, while Loki sorts himself out. He has a very healthy blush on his cheeks, and he has to pat dry some sweat from his brow, but otherwise, he looks immaculate. Well, almost.

“Wait,” Bucky stops him. “Tie is crooked.” He straightens it up, with Loki’s green stare unyielding on him. For a moment, he feels like he’s roleplaying a dutiful housewife. Shit, he’s seeing himself by a sink full of dishes, in a fucking blue gingham apron, like the one his granny used to wear around the house, while Loki fucks him in the ass. And did that just turn him on? Judging from that smug, amused grin on Loki’s face, he’s a telepath.

“Thank you, dear,” he says. With one last tug to his shirt, he begins to walk away.

Bucky is very fucking close to saying thank you back.

“Don’t mention it. Oh, wait,” he hands him back the scarf.

“No, keep it,” purrs Loki, with a wicked smirk. “It suits you.”

You little shit, thinks Bucky.

He wishes there was a soft mattress he could sprawl over right now, let his breathing and his heartbeat come down, enjoy the afterglow. This fucking office. The mere sight of it makes him hard now, but he fucking hates it too. He wants to do it on a bed, is that too much to ask? 

He needs to get dressed. He’s a bit spaced out. He had never come untouched before. He stares at the scarf in his hands, he strokes it. God help him, he’s in so much fucking trouble.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I still owe you your Ironfrost, but this time I felt more inspired with these two. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
